First full moon in June

        Driving from Bowling Green home, the first
        full moon in June on Tuesday, rising,
        happened when I was in the long valley toward 
        Marrowbone. It was not pink.

        Closer to earth, it was not a thirst
        that made the satellite  ripe, my surmising,
        for its namesake, a strawberry. I did not think
        it, however, the blood moon of lore.

        It was not my first sighting in my lifetime.
        Not my first entcounter with the brillance of the event, and    
        there I was in Annie Hollow, going to dogs treed.
        I wished your were beside me to view it.
       
        I stood still, silent, for some time.
        It was mysterious nonetheless, and   
        as well known to me as the Northern Lights, indeed, 
        or the moon’s quarters, but my dogs had no desire to view it,

        From the sounds of their escitement, I had far, far to go
        before I reached them.